


And all that could have been

by LadyGloucester



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Love, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGloucester/pseuds/LadyGloucester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU.<br/>King Henry VI rules over England. His cousin Edward Plantagenet is his most trusted adviser, while his two younger brothers stay as wards at Middleham Castle under the tutelage of the Duke of Warwick. But they are not the only ones there, as the Prince of Wales, Edward of Lancaster, has joined them a few months ago.</p>
<p>What was supposed to be between Richard and Anne may be turned around by his father's plans to put one of her daughters on the throne...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood for blood

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken the characters and relationships from 'The White Queen' and also the scenery, but turn them a little bit around to make it different. Hope you like it!

It was another warm, flowery summer day. Anne slowly opened her eyes and inhale the sweet scent that came through the windows. Her maids had opened them a few moments before she woke, and they were getting her dress ready for her. She streched before leaving her bed, and walked barefooted to the window. She stood by, feeling the soft breeze tangling her hair with her eyes closed, but the noise of muffled blows made her open them.

Below her window, at the gardens, her father's wards were sparring. Two of them, at least. She could tell who they were without even seeing their faces. The fair, blonde hair belonged to Edward of Lancaster, son of the king and pupil to his father for the last three months. He was fighting against the wild thrusts of his opponent. Anne let a sigh slip through her thin lips. Those raven black curls that sticked to the sweat of his forehead where Richard's. The young duke of Gloucester had been his father's ward for the last eight years, and he was probably going to be called to court in the next weeks. He was almost a man, even though for Anne, he would always be that quiet lonely boy who fell of a tree trying to win a kiss from her.

She smiled with nostalgia of those days when talking to each other was easy, with no other feelings that friendly loyalty between them. Richard finally disarmed Edward, who fell to the ground on his back while his rival put his sword to his neck. She giggled, and the noise was enough for Richard's fine ear to hear it. He rose his eyes to her window and they looked at each other for a second…

… until her sister Isabel took her arm and pulled her from the window with no mercy.

"Isabel! You hurt me!" Anne complained. Her pale arm had her sister's fingers marked in red.

"Then don't behave as a foolish maid, Anne. You look at the boys as if you were some ignorant commoner" Isabel answered.

Of course she didn't have to look at the boys. All of them looked at her perfect white skin, her rosy cheeks, her precious dark hair and her full lips. Compared to her, Anne felt quite a poor figure. Isabel sat down on her bed while the maids dressed Annie, making her complain about the tightness of her bodice. Isabel took upon herself to prepare her hair, and she combed it mercilessly. 

"Jesus, Isabel…"

"Don't curse, Annie! Your hair looks as if you didn't comb it in a week…" The guilty look on her sister's face gave her away. "Jesus!"

"Don't curse, Isabel…"

They both started to laugh as Isabel finished her braid. When she was done, they both went down to the gardens for a walk. Anne grabbed an apple on her way out and ate it bite by bite. Isabel looked at her in disapproval, but she knew her sister wouldn't change until she wanted to. Anne was nothing if not stubborn. And sloppy. And had no sense of fashion at all. If it were up to her, she would walk out with boys clothes.

The sun hit them and Anne closed her eyes with pleasure. Isabel pulled her arm to make her walk again and they went to the gardens, where their father's pupils were finishing their arms training. The main armorer was showing them the best way to tie an armor in a hurry, and which parts were indispensable in a sudden battle. The young men were sitting on the grass, the sun shining on their hair. They made the perfect image of chivalry.

Isabel and Anne sat down under the oak which Richard fell off a few years ago, their skirts spread around them. They used to sit down there to do their embroidery jobs in the summer, when the sun was gentle in the north and the breeze freshen the air. The scent of the harebells scattered on the grass was intoxicating, and often Isabel found her sister lost in her thoughts, or staring at the young Duke of Gloucester while he wasn't watching. She knew Anne kept the piece of silk she used to clean the wound Richard got when he fell off the oak. She thought it was disgusting, but her sister treasured it like a heirloom.

Isabel knew her father had plans for Anne. She hadn't told her, because she knew Anne would react fiercely, and could even go to their father to speak her mind. And that would give up how Isabel found about that plans, as it is, spying behind a half-open door. Not very polite.

While she was trying to give one of her embroidered roses the proper color, the wards were dismissed. Francis and Henry went inside to get a refreshment, but George, Richard and Edward went to meet the girls. Isabel saw them out of the corner of her eye, and sat straighter than before. Anne was totally unaware of them, as she was trying to untie a knot she created herself with the thread.

"My ladies…" Edward said, curtsying before them, as well as the other two boys. His voice startled Anne, and she pinched her finger with a small pair of shears she was using to cut the knot, letting scape a soft growl between her teeth.

"Sorry to interrupt you, lady Anne". George smirked. "You are quite easy to startle…"

Richard's brother would always try to get her nerves, and he did, actually, quite often. Anne knew it was the best way to make her leave and let her sister alone with him. She wasn't stupid. George was head over heels for Isabel, and she knew she totally returned his feelings. But Isabel loved to play hard to get, as it was her duty, and she never showed him a hint of her true emotions.

Anne gazed back at George with annoyance, got up ignoring Edward's hand to help her and let her embroidery job behind, lying on the grass, as she quickly walked to the castle, trying to contain the blood from her finger. Anne went grumbling about the tiny wound dropping as much blood as a cut to the throat. She was pressing his finger to stop the bleeding when a soft voice appeared behind her.

"My lady Anne."

She slowly turned around with her heart pounding inside her chest. Richard walked up to her, and stopped at a proper distance. He looked at her finger and raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you used bladed weapons during your embroidery lessons". 

His look was serious, but Anne couldn't help but chuckle at his comment. His eyes softened the minute he heard her tinkling laugh, as he pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve. 

"Please, allow me, my lady". 

Anne gasped as he closed the distance between them and took her hand in theirs. He quickly wrapped the silk around his finger and pressed, without taking his eyes out of hers. His dark, deep blue eyes, so baffling she could never guess his thoughts. 

The silence spread between them, but something inside her chest let her know she didn't need to say anything. That silence was more meaningful that any smalltalk about the weather or his training. Against his own will, Richard took his eyes off hers, and paid attention to the wound. He slowly unwrapped her finger. The wound was already drying.

"It will leave a scar" He warned, taking a closer look to the cut. His hands were delicate, and he held Anne's hand so close she could feel his warm breath on it. She blushed when he turned his eyes into hers with his head still lowered, and there was something in them she could not identify. For a second, her heart skipped a beat when she sensed Richard was closing the distance between their faces, but he backed down at the very instant. 

Richard stood straight again, and curtsied before turning around to leave, without a single word said.

Then Anne noticed the handkerchief he had taken with him, stained with her blood.

"My lord! I ruined your handkerchief… Please, let me see to it."

Richard stopped and looked at her over his shoulder, with an enigmatic expression on his face.

"Do you want to trade, my lady?"


	2. Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did he do it? Anne couldn't dare to imagine a world where Richard loved her the same way she loved him.
> 
> But if she doesn't dare to imagine, she will have to dare to act.

Anne felt her stomach shrink into a small tight ball of shame and despair. How could he know she kept that piece of silk to herself? It happened years ago, when they were just two kids who felt too close to each other. A distance that had grown bigger through the past months, and especially since the Prince of Wales had arrived to Middleham. 

She sat in her bed, burying her face between her hands, her feelings balancing between remorse and… what was it, joy? Anne dropped her hands and frowned, not being able to stop her lips from drawing a smile. He hadn't accused her of doing anything inappropriate. No, he just did the same as she had in a very similar situation. The only thing that had to be different was the reason behind it.

She searched in a secret pocket inside her dress and took out her piece of cloth, caressing it while she tried to process what just happened there. She kept it out of love, but… Could he have done it because of it too?

"Impossible…" She muttered under her breath.

"Anne, are you well?" Isabel asked entering her sister's bedchamber without knocking. She found her with such a strange look in her face she stopped on her way to her. "What is it? Anne…"

Her sister quickly put away her heirloom and looked up to her, blinking a few times before answering.

"I just… I don't… You…"

"Anne, that cut must have gotten deeper than I thought since you're completely unable to speak a whole sentence." Isabel walked up to her and took her hand to see it. "At least it isn't bleeding anymore. It wasn't a nice move, by the way. Richard left us without saying a single word and I got stuck with the Prince… Who isn't precisely the most talkative person. And George doesn't know how not to be the most inappropriate when he's nearby. Anne, you're starting to worry me…"

Anne's gaze was lost, and Isabel tied up the loose ends. 

"Did he follow you? Is that it?" Isabel asked sitting by her side and smiling curiously. "I knew it! He loves you!"

"Isabel!" Anne reprimanded her, pretending to be annoyed. But her grin betrayed her. "Do you think so? No! Don't tell me. You are always seeing things that just don't exist. I don't… I just…" 

Anne looked at her sister. Isabel always scowled at her whenever she stood up for Richard, and she was sure her sister was aware of her infatuation with the young Duke. But her smile was different this time.

"Oh, Annie… You can trust me. I'm not judging you, I just don't want you to get hurt." Isabel said softly, holding her hand.

"I miss him, Izzy. We used to be together all day, even when he was sparring I just sat down nearby and watched him train… But…" Her eyes filled with tears she didn't know she had inside. "I don't know. It all came out of nowhere, and one day he just started to avoid me."

Isabel squeezed her sister's hand. She didn't know if it would be best to tell her what she had heard, or to let her live in this small bubble of youth that would break the minute Anne knew her fate.

"Annie, when did this happen? Do you remember?"

"It wasn't that long ago… I think… five months ago. Not any longer. What if…" Anne's face became suddenly pale. "What if he's to marry, Izzy? Maybe that is why! He knows he has to marry and he stopped behaving as if we were something we are not… Oh, Izzy!!"

Isabel tried to calm her down, wiped her tears of her face with a scented handkerchief and put her arm around her shoulders.

"Annie, I don't think he is to be married. Father would have told us. Or the boys. Even George! You know he's unable to keep quiet, especially if he can tease his younger brother. I think, and this is an exception, that you should talk to him and find out."

Anne looked at her as if her sister had turned into a green unicorn right in front of her.

"Talk to him, Izzy? I… I would die of shame. What am I going to ask him? Richard, I want to know why you hate me. Because I lo…"

Anne shut up before saying it out loud, but Isabel looked at her patiently.

"I know how you feel, Annie. I'm your older sister. And that is why I think you should talk to him, the sooner the better. I will ask him to go to the gardens tonight. It's settled." She decided, while she got up and walked to the door.

"Izzy! Don't! I… I can't!!"

"Annie… Trust me. You will regret it if you don't."

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

Isabel gave her the advice against her better judgement. It was totally inappropriate to meet with one of their father's wards in the middle of the night. She knew that, as her father's daughter, Anne should marry whoever Lord Warwick decided. But something inside her was screaming that the Prince of Wales was no Prince at all. He was rude, weak, willful and had the same sense of chivalry as a goat. She was truly worried about that prospected marriage, even though it meant for Anne to be queen one day. But even so, Isabel wanted her sister to be happy above all things. She deserved to be loved. And Edward was closer to a beast than to a man.

Richard was a perfect match for her younger sister. He was serious, strong and courageous, and the life of a Duchess would be much easier than a queen's. And Isabel knew, by the way she used to caught him staring at her sister, that his love for her was more than a teenager infatuation. If they could hasten the occurrences, maybe her father would have to settle for a Duke instead of a Prince.

She knew where to find Richard. He was a quiet young man, and so he loved to find a quiet spot in the gardens, apart from the life of the castle, and write in a few pieces of parchment. She could tell so because Isabel had run into him a few times with ink stains on his right hand, and curious as she was, she found out where he used to hide.

Isabel didn't want to startle him neither, so she waited around the gardens before dinner, so she'd run into him in a casual way. Her plan was successful, as she was a skilled actress, and when he noticed her, she gave him her best smile.

"Lord Gloucester." She said, curtsying. "A word, please?"

Richard looked at her and bowed slightly. "Lady Isabel… I'm your humble servant."

"I know this isn't the proper way to do this, but my sister has entrusted me to give you a message." Isabel fixed her eyes on his face, but even though Richard was a master containing his feelings, she could tell he was astonished by her words.

"Of course, my lady."

"She wants you to meet her here, by the oak, at midnight."

Richard raised an eyebrow and found himself in trouble to speak.

"How so?"

"I am just the messenger, my lord. The rest is up to you." Isabel bowed graciously and went straight to the dining room.


	3. For where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight is the night. And it's going to happen.

Anne was sitting at the common table by the time Isabel entered the room, followed shortly by Richard. She could feel her cheeks burning as she rapidly turned her eyes from the door to her plate. Francis Lovell was at her right, and as the good friend he had always been, he quickly offered a helping hand, feeling her discomfort and knowing exactly the cause of it.

"Anne, how is your wound? Did it require attention from the physician?" He asked politely.

"Oh, no, Francis, thank you. I just… You know. I waited for it to stop bleeding, and that is all". Anne shrugged and smiled at his companion. 

Isabel took a sit at her left, and gave her a significant look. But as she nodded to her, Anne turned her eyes to the front, where the only seat had been taken by Richard. She felt her heart pounding in her chest so loud she was afraid anyone could hear it. Francis couldn't help but smile at his friend, who was especially serious that night, even though Richard wasn't a very cheerful person. But it was George, who had just sat by Isabel, who broke the tension.

"Isabel, I hope you have better hands than your sister's. Otherwise your father will have to keep a permanent physician at the castle." 

Everyone chuckled and even Anne smiled softly. She was the first to acknowledge she was not as skillful as her sister, but his voice attracted her eyes hopelessly.

"Her hands are just perfect, George. As it is your ill-judged mind." Richard said coldly.

That low, quiet outburst left his brother with his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. But it worked, as George ignored Anne and Richard for the rest of the evening. 

Anne's eyes had met Richard's as he talked, and even though he wasn't addressing her, she knew he did it for her. She felt as if an enormous weigh left her shoulders, and gave her courage to keep the smile for the rest of the evening, blushing when her gaze met his, and getting nervous whenever her sister decided to kick her foot under the table to keep her from staring at Richard.

They didn't exchange another word during the dinner, and when it was over, and the sun had disappeared among the northern hills, they said their goodbyes as if they were not to meet afterwards.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

That wait was going to kill her. Isabel kissed her good night smiling and went to her bedchamber, leaving Anne with an astonished look on her face. Wasn't she going to wait with her? Not a single word of advice? Isabel!

Anne retired also and her maids got her ready for bed. They undressed her, and loosed her hair as if she were to sleep as any other night. When they left, Anne jumped out of bed and started pacing, worried as if the world were going explode that very moment. She didn't know what she was going to ask him, or how to explain to him why she wanted to meet him in the middle of the night. Nothing made any sense to her, and the nerves were getting to her in a way that made Anne lose sense of time.

When she noticed it, the moon was high in the sky and she was wearing nothing but her nightgown. Startled by how late it had gotten without her knowing, she threw a deep blue cloak on her shoulders and pulled the cowl over her head on her way out.

The castle was quiet, only the crickets and the cicadas broke the silence of the night. Anne realized she forgot to put on some shoes when she felt the cold stone floor at the patio, and then the soft wet grass covering the gardens. The night was perfect. The breeze was slightly cold, and the scents of the nocturnal flowers were captivating. She rest her back against the ancient oak, and inhale the smell of the night.

"I hope I did not make you wait, my lady". Richard's voice came from her side. She didn't even heard his footsteps on the soft grass.

"You can still call me Anne. We are here alone." And by saying it, Anne realized it at last. There had always been people around them, even when they were alone, but this was the first time they were truly on their own.

"I know, Anne. But it is easier if I just call you my lady." His gaze fixed into Anne's eyes, and she trembled by his intensity.

"Easier?" She denied slowly, and lowered her eyes as they soaked in tears.

"Anne…" Richard came close to her, and touched her chin to make her look him in the eye. "Anne, I do not want to hurt you. It is the last thing I would ever do. And I do not know how I made you cry." 

She looked at him and found him truly troubled by the situation. His hand was still on her chin, and her touch was overwhelming.

"You didn't make me cry, Richard, it's just me. Sometimes I'm plain stupid, Isabel says that and I have to agree." It took all she had to gently pull her face from his hand, and dry her tears. She needed to be strong, and everything was coming out the wrong way.

"And I have to disagree. I have never met anyone as smart, tender and brave as you are, Anne. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Richard stepped back, seeing that his contact wasn't wanted, and crossed his hands in front of his body.

"What is it that you have to tell me, Anne?"

She felt the distance between them as a physical pain, and regretted pulling away from him. But being that close only made everything even more difficult.

"I… I don't know where to start to not sound as a little child. But maybe I am, and that is why I have to know. Richard… why did you get away from me?" She asked with all her innocence backing her words.

Richard accused her question as a blow in the stomach. 

"You don't know?"

Anne frowned and get closer to him.

"What should I know? Richard, tell me."

He stopped her by putting his hands over her shoulders, and kept her at a safe distance. Richard knew about Anne's temper, and he needed to choose his words wisely.

"Anne, I was asked to keep my distance with you, since it was inappropriate to be as close as we were when there is a marriage prospect."


	4. Desire under the oaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date is a date, and a night one is even more terrifying when your feelings are about to be exposed for anyone to hurt.

So that was it. Richard was to marry some noble girl like her sister. Someone suitable and desirable. Not her. Not Anne. She tried to speak, but her voice had disappeared in her throat. Her eyes were dry, not even tears dared to show up. Suddenly, the world started to spin in an unbalanced way, only before the darkness took her away.

When she opened her eyes, she felt something was off. Her back was on the grass and her feet didn't touch the ground. But what she saw first was Richard's face, his eyes full of concern softened as she tried to sit up, until he stopped her. Her head was laying against something soft, and she noticed Richard had taken off his doublet and used it as a pillow. He was only wearing a light linen shirt that let her see the angles of his collarbones. 

"Anne, are you well? How do you feel?"

She was slowly noticing pieces of the situation. His left hand was under her neck, and his right one was against her cheek, caressing it carefully.

"Don't move, you fainted and hit your head against the oak." Anne saw the right sleeve of his white shirt, stained with a few drops of blood. She instantly put her hand in her forehead and found the wound.

"This is going to cost me a lot of explaining…" Anne slowly started to sit up and this time, Richard gave up to her stubbornness. He took his doublet and put it back without lacing it, and sat in front of her without taking his eyes of hers. "I am well, Richard, I just…"

"I thought you knew, Anne. That is why I put it out so bluntly. I assumed your father would have told you." His face regained his usual seriousness, as if they were again surrounded by people.

"My father? Why would he tell me you are to marry, Richard? It doesn't make any sense, please." Anne was still dizzy, and had no stomach for more games.

Richard blinked, totally caught by surprise. "Is that what you think? That I am to marry? And that is why you fainted?" He seemed almost amused by her words, and it only made Anne blush more fiercely.

"Stop it, please! It is… I don't find it amusing at all." But his eyes turned from amusement to a feeling she couldn't discern. Something darker, and more intense. "Why are you looking at me like this?"

"Anne, you are the one who is going to get married. That is why my brother asked me to stay away from you." At her surprised gasp, Richard realized nobody had told her. And he felt obliged to explain. "My brother sent me a letter five months ago. He described the last events at court, as well as a new one he had discussed with the king himself. The Prince of Wales would eventually need a wife, and this moment was as good as any other. The king wanted an English wife for her son, and my witty brother suggested that Edward could come to Middleham as your father's ward, and… well… They could see if his daughter would be a good fit for him. Since my brother has already decided that George is to marry Isabel, the options narrowed to just one. You, Anne. "

Richard explained this to her in a very soft voice, watching her every move and gesture to see if she could take it. And she did, which puzzled him even more about how she could have passed out at the image of him getting married.

"Me… Princess of Wales…" And against all odds, Anne let out an amused giggle, prelude to a bursts of laughter that brought tears to her eyes and bewilderment to Richard's. "I'm sorry, Richard, but is my father that oblivious? I could never be a princess, nor a queen."

Richard's gaze seemed colder as she spoke, and Anne stopped smiling when she noticed.

"So it doesn't worry that your husband to be is a weak, illiterate, willful little boy. Only the inconvenience of the title he carries along." He said in a tone she never heard before.

"How come do you find it more disturbing than I do?"

"Because I know him. I have seen his core, and it's no better than a worm. You don't deserve him. You deserve a man who respects you, someone who never mistreats you, someone who… who loves you, Anne." He finished with a whisper, fixing his deep blue eyes in hers.

Slowly, they both started to get closer, as attached to each other with an invisible bond. All Anne could see was his eyes, hypnotizing her, opening his heart for her to see. His hands slowly took her face between them and cover the inches that separated them until she could feel his soft breath against her lips.

"And I do, Anne. I lo…"

"AAAAANNE!!!!!"


	5. She who lives by the sword, dies by the sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running in a nightgown in the middle of the night has consequences. But she was willing to pay the price.

"You have a lot to explain, young lady."

Lady Warwick was pacing in front of her, dressed in a robe covering her nightgown, while Isabel stood up behind her with her hands held together and her head low. Anne was ready to take what was coming, and she gave her sister a reassuring look. She would never betray her.

"You are lucky your lord father isn't here, otherwise he wouldn't even ask. You'd be put away for a long time, trust me. So start talking, Anne."

She bit her lower lip and cleared her throat to gain some time. But her mother was not one to be played. She crossed the distance between them and slapped her in the face, leaving a bloody mark in her cheek that wouldn't go away easily. 

"Don't you dare finding an excuse, Anne. If you lie to me, I will know." She warned, her eyes half-closed in anger.

"I couldn't sleep, mother. I have been feeling unwell in the nights for the last days, but I found out that taking a walk through the gardens helped me recover my sleep. I don't know if it's the fresh air, or the exercise, but I have been doing it and it worked. But, clumsy as I am, tonight I slipped on the wet grass and hit my head against the oak." Anne touched her forehead where the wound was throbbing. "I must have fainted, because it was your voice that woke me up. That is all."

If Anne had something in common with her sister was her ability to look honest. Because she always was. Anne had never lied to anyone to save herself from a punishment or a scowl. But this time, there was something else at stake. Lady Warwick stared at her in silence for a long time before deciding whether she was lying or not.

"Go away. And pray that I don't tell your father when he returns from court, or you will find yourself in deeper waters than you are now."

Their mother dismissed them with a nod and both girls went to Anne's chambers. Isabel hurried to the washbowl and drenched a smooth cloth with water to clean her sisters wound. Anne sat on the bed and cover her legs with the sheets. Even though she was hurting, she couldn't help but smile. Isabel sat beside her, worried at first but then curious about her smile. Anne squirmed from the touch of the cold rag, but the look on her sister's face told her to stay quiet and take it.

Once she finished the task in silence, Isabel couldn't stand not knowing anymore.

"So??"

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

Anne could feel Richard's breath against her lips, ready to take that first kiss she had dreamt about for years. She closed her eyes and slowly put her hands in his neck.

"And I do, Anne, I lo…"

Her mother's scream had broken the magic. Richard got so startled that for a second, he didn't know what to do. It was his first instinct to take his hand to where his sword usually was while he was training, but he found nothing. Anne had stood up with a dry mouth and a pale face. If they found them together, she would be in a very difficult situation, but Richard would be expelled from the castle and sent back to London. Something Anne wasn't going to allow. 

When Richard turned back to her, he found her gown where her face had been a few seconds before. He stood up and put his hands over Anne's shoulders, who were tensed as a bowstring. She was looking at the door where she had escaped through, and Richard could tell she was plotting her alibi. 

"Richard, run! Go back to your chambers, if they find you here it will be worse." Anne said keeping and eye at the doors.

"I won't leave you, Anne, not when we were…"

"Hush now." She put a finger on his lips, and sighed with contained emotion. "We will… but not now. Just run!"

Anne could tell, by the look on his face, that Richard wasn't one to run away from trouble and responsibility. He was fighting inside, but Anne pushed him, taking his hands off her shoulders.

"Just go!" She whispered nervously.

Richard gave up, knowing he would regret leaving her to take on the blame she would surely face. He disappeared in the darkness while Anne was cleaning the blood on her forehead and smoothing out her nightgown. When she found herself presentable, she started to walk towards the door, but a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist. She couldn't oppose any resistance to the force that pulled her into Richard's chest, his eyes intensely looking into hers for a second after she realized it was him. Anne looked bewildered, but when she recognized him, her eyes filled with desire. It was all he needed.

Richard lowered his face towards hers, and put his lips against Anne's. There was need in that kiss, passion and desire running from his lips to hers. His hands grasped her waist and pulled her against his body before holding her completely. Anne's hands instantly run to his hair, entangling her fingers in his dark locks, not wanting that moment to end.

"AAAAAAANNE!!!!"

Again, her mother's voice tried to break them apart. But this time the world had stopped on its tracks. It was only the two of them, together, their lips locked, their bodies trying to merge into each other. It took all they had to pull away, and Richard was the one to stop it, the same way he had started it. Without breaking the embrace, he slipped his face to her ear, and whispered in it, making her shiver with the feeling of his breath against her skin.

"I love you, Anne."

But as sudden as his departure was, he still had a moment to look at Anne with a bright smile. One she had never seen on his lips, and that instantly infected her own.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

Anne's smile was still on her face while she related the whole story to Isabel. Her sister listened to her with emotion, grabbing the linen sheets as if she needed something to hold to stop her from screaming out of excitement. When Anne finished, Isabel threw herself on her arms and kissed her cheek repeatedly.

"I knew it! He loves you!! And I told you so! Now you can't say I'm not always right. I am!"

"Wait, wait! There's much more, Izzy, and not only good news. But I will tell you tomorrow, I'm exhausted." Anne smiled apologetically. 

Isabel caressed her cheek carefully, where her mother's hand was still red bright, and walked to the door. She turned around before leaving, with a joyful smile on her face.

"Fair enough. Sleep well, Annie. You found love in a hopeless place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the Rihanna quote, I found it very suitable! ^^


	6. And a bunch of dead flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne's escape had consequences. But what she wouldn't imagine is who was coming to try and ease them.

When Anne woke up that morning, her head was still pounding, especially in the forehead, where the wound she got was almost closed. No wonder, since a week had passed since she got it. Anne took her hand to the scratch and caressed it. She knew in a few days it would be totally gone, but for now, it was the only proof that night was more than a dream.

She smiled at the memory, as she had been smiling whenever it crossed her mind. Which was quite often, since Lady Warwick hadn't truly believed her explanation about the wound and her missing from her room in the middle of the night. She had locked her up in her bedchambers, only allowing Isabel to stop by a few moments every evening. But she had all her meals alone, and at nights, she'd toss and turn almost until sunrise, when she'd finally get a couple of hours before the maids brought breakfast.

His words were still echoing in her ears, bringing an instant smile to her lips. Whenever Anne touched them, she remembered how Richard had kissed her, how his lips caressed them, the need inside that kiss. A need she had felt without even being aware of it. But as days went by, her bubble began to crack, and the news of her prospected marriage started to take a bigger place in her mind.

Anne remembered how she had laughed when she first heard them. And she truly thought it was ridiculous to marry the Prince of Wales. Even though she knew that, as a Neville, were to marry a noble man from court, maybe even a royal duke, she never felt superior to anyone. And that was incompatible with being queen. But Anne also knew his father was ambitious. He would have never got as far as he had gotten if he wasn't. And Lord Warwick wasn't a man who'd take lightly to be gone against.

Everyday, Anne felt more and more preoccupied, and even though she still had room in her mind for the sweet memories, this one was starting to grow bigger by the hour. So when Isabel came that night to inform her that their father would arrive the next day, after a month in court, she found Anne wallowing by the window.

"Anne…" She hastened to get to her and embraced her sister. Anne didn't find in her the strength to hug her back at first, but when Isabel didn't give up, she finally realized how much she needed it.

"Isabel, I… I don't know what to do."

In her brief visits, Anne had the chance to tell Isabel a few more details about her date with Richard, keeping the ones about her sister possibly marrying George for herself. Since it wasn't something already settled, she didn't want to give a false sense of hope to Isabel.

"Anne, don't think about it. As beautiful as it could be for you to marry Richard, you know it's Father's last word. If he states that you have to marry Edward, there's little we can do." Isabel patted her back softly, brushing her hair back.

"I just can't resign to marry the Prince now I've found Richard loves me. It's like being holding yourself to a precarious rock while falling from a cliff, and finding that the hand that is going to save you disappears before you can hold it. It's just not... fair…"

Isabel was truly worried about Anne. In the week she had spent confined, she had way too much time to think. And to realize that marrying the Lancaster boy was a life-long curse. 

"Justice has nothing to do with marriages, Anne, so don't…"

A knock on the door surprised them. They looked at each other and, after readying themselves, Anne answered. The last person she could imagine to be allowed to visit her was there, on the doorstep, with a studied smile that didn't get to his eyes and a few flowers on his right hand.

"Your grace" Both sisters said at the same time, bowing before the Prince of Wales.

Isabel gave her a wary look before standing up again and recomposed her face immediately. Anne, on the other side, looked like a deer about to be hunted.

"My ladies… My lady Anne, your mother granted me permission to come by and see that you were well. I have not seen you the last few days, and she told me that you were recovering from a cold."

Anne knew her mother was excusing her from the daily life at the castle with that story, much proper than the real one, but seeing Edward there totally disturbed her. But before she could find the words to answer, Isabel came in her rescue.

"She is feeling much better, Your Grace. Tomorrow she will be able to receive my father Lord Warwick when he arrives."

"I am glad to hear it, lady Isabel. I…" He suddenly smiled embarrassed looking at the flowers. "They looked much more beautiful on the grass, but I wanted to bring you something that would remind you of your gardens. I know they are very dear to you."

The Prince slowly approached the girls, with a apologetic smile, and offered the flowers to Anne. Half of them were already dead, and the present was rather disturbing, but she accepted it and when she took it, their fingers brushed for a second. Edward looked away in shyness and Anne was unable to act upset. He was actually being… sweet?

"I thank you, Your Grace. You should not have taken the trouble to collect them. They will grace my chamber."

Anne smiled politely, and Edward fixed his eyes on her, smiling back.

"My ladies… Have a good night, lady Anne. Lady Isabel, I will see you during supper."

And as quietly as he had arrived, he left.

Isabel still waited until his footsteps were no longer perceptible and she turned to her sister, who still held the dead flowers as a gloomy bride.

"What was that about? Is he…? Is he courting you?"

Anne shrugged, looking at the flowers.

"Hope he is a better king than a courtesan…" She turned around and tried to put the flowers in a vase. "These are the most terrible gift I have ever received. And yet… It was nice of him. Don't you think?"

"You'd better be careful. I don't like him, and this chivalrous gesture has given me more reason to distrust. But obviously, it confirms what Richard told you. There are things going on."

Anne was still looking at the flowers. In her heart, she couldn't find the will to hate this shy boy. She knew he was far from perfect, but comparing him to Richard would only cause her pain. If she were to marry him, she'd better start to get used to it. But the very thought of losing Richard over Edward made the blood in her face drop, leaving her pale and drawn.

"Isabel… I wished I had never gone to that oak."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Anne's stronger than this, but I don't think a girl from that time could be able to confront her father and tell him that she won't marry the man he decides for her.  
> Of course, this is just the beginning. And, of course, a dark-haired boy will have something to say about it.


	7. What goes around, comes around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The former brotherhood between Lord Warwick's wards is about to shatter into a million pieces.

The next morning Anne was awaken by her mother's maids, that were sent to get her ready for his father's arrival. They washed her, dressed her and fed her all at the same time while she was still half asleep. She rubbed her eyes before being pushed outside her bedchambers and the sudden light turned out to be more annoying than she expected. 

Anne wouldn't complain. Her face still showed the memories of the night she sneaked out to meet Richard. The wound on her forehead was almost closed, though, and the red mark of her mother's hand had turned into a yellowish purple only on her cheekbone. Everyone at the castle were at the patio, the front door opened to welcome the Earl's entourage as well as the Earl of Warwick himself, after a month away.

Anne took place by her sister and behind her lady mother, and she crossed her hands in front of her skirt. Her gaze couldn't help but to wander around. In the second line of the formation, his father's wards were awaiting. George, Edward, Francis… And of course, there was Richard. Or at least, what was left of him.

His face was even paler than it used to be, his eyes were surrounded by dark rings, and his cheekbones seemed even more pronounced than they were already. He was pursing his lips and clenching his jaw, as if he was restraining himself from doing something he was eager to do. Isabel hadn't told her anything about him the past days, even though she asked. But her sister stated that knowing anything about him would disturb her, and she gave her no information at all. Izzy was adamant.

Now she knew why. Richard had been suffering that week, and it was clear by his looks. And in that moment, Anne knew she'd risk it all to be with him. Finally, Richard felt her stare, or at least, decided to honor it, and turned his face to her. His dark, deep blue eyes instantly found hers, and the bond they felt was almost tangible. As if the rest of the world had disappeared around them, and they were the only people left in it.

That bond had to break, because Izzy dug her elbow in Anne's ribcage. The entourage was coming and she had to play her part.

Richard look to the front as well, and when the Earl of Warwick entered the castle, they all bowed before him.

Richard Neville got off his horse and came straight to his family. He kissed his wife's hand, and caressed his daughters cheeks after taking off his gloves. His hands were harsh because of the years of fighting with the sword, but the gesture was kind, and Anne appreciated smiling. 

"Welcome back, my lord." Lady Warwick said, in a stern tone.

"I am glad to be home. But also exhausted. If you excuse me, we shall meet for lunch." His voice was also harsh and low, the voice of a warrior who could command thirty thousand men into battle. His wife followed him into the castle while the entourage and the rest of the people scattered into routine.

Anne wasn't grounded anymore, so she went with Izzy to get their embroidery jobs and to sit under the oak, just as a regular day. But her absence was something Richard had grown accustomed to, and knowing she was back there kept him from paying enough attention to the training. The results were a cut on his cheekbone, a couple of bruises on his right arm and a very bruised pride.

Richard had kept stealing glances from her all the morning, and when they were set to fight in pairs, he got assigned to Edward of Lancaster. He had also looked at Anne and smiled at her, and when Anne found they were going to fight each other, Izzy felt her gasping.

"Keep sewing, Anne…" She mumbled under her breath.

But her eyes were fixed on the sparring. Which, by the way, didn't look as sparring at all. More like a showdown in the middle of a battlefield. Richard's onslaughts were brutal and Edward couldn't do much about it, other than trying to stop them with his sword. It was clearly an unequal match, and Anne took a while to understand why Richard was being so aggressive. The prospected marriage between her and the Prince of Wales had turned him into a bloodthirsty soldier. 

When Edward was lying on the ground, his back against it and Richard's sword on his neck, the fencing-master came along and declared Richard as the winner. But when he turned his back on Edward, the Prince used it to kick the back of his knee and throw him to the mud. Richard regained balance almost the second he touched the ground, but Edward had thrown himself upon him and was trying to strangle him. 

Anne and Izzy screamed in horror while Richard started to punch him until he let go of him. But he was beyond control by then. They rolled clenching each other over the mud, exchanging punches and kicks until Richard got on top of him and started to punch him so hard the Prince was unable to defend, only to squeal like a dying pig.

The fencing-master came running and held Richard, pulling his arms to his back and throwing him away from the fight. He laid his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Anne followed her first instinct, and run to that bruised, bleeding and mud-covered Richard. But he looked at her glacially, and she stopped on her tracks, only a few inches from him. He stood up and dismissed her with his hand.

"Go water your dead roses, lady Anne."

It was almost as if he had punched her in the stomach. Anne opened her mouth for air while he limped into the castle. The master was taking care of the Prince, not very carefully since he had seen his dirty move, but he was the Prince anyway. Between the master and Henry they brought him inside to get attended by the physician. Something Anne knew Richard wouldn't even think.

Izzy grabbed her by her arm and whispered into her ear.

"Don't, Annie. I know what you're thinking, but remember what happened the last time. Do you really want to risk it all? This is not a game you can pull yourself off whenever you want to…"

Anne looked at her sister, and her eyes gave her away. Isabel knew there was no way to convince her sister otherwise. She left the embroidery on the grass and got into the castle. 

She knew her way around it, and how to go unnoticed, even as the daughter of the Earl of Warwick. Anne also knew where Richard's chambers were, and she sneaked into them after a couple of scares forced her to hide in the first place she could. She knew that if they found her there, it was all over. But she also knew that it didn't matter. By that time she was so deeply in love with Richard she would have walked thru the fire to get to him.

Anne didn't waste time on knocking on the door. She opened it quickly and closed it behind her in a second. She stood by the door, her face against it to listen if she had been noticed. But no noises came from across the wood. She slowly turned around and found Richard in the middle of the room, half of his face covered in mud and blood flowing of his wounds.

"What… Do yo have any idea what will happen to you if they find you here?" He whispered in anger.

"Then shut up and do not make a sound."

Richard knew how stubborn Anne was. It was easier to convince the sun that it was dark in the middle of the day than to make her do something she didn't want to. Or to keep her from doing something she did. She walked steadfastly to the basin and filled it with some water.

"Sit down." She ordered. Richard stood up for a few seconds, looking at her in disbelief, and he finally sat on the bed while taking off his doublet. Each movement he made was accompanied with a gesture of pain in his face, and Anne knew Edward had hurt him more than he would acknowledge.

She went all the way to him, with a wet cloth, and started to clean his face delicately, despite the need to slap him she felt at the moment.

"Go water your dead roses, lady Anne." She mocked in a whisper. "How can you say something like this to me, Richard?"

He looked away and frowned. The silence spread between them while she cleaned his face and tend to his wounds, and when she was done, she sat down by his side.

"Do you really think it is on my hand to refuse his attentions? All I can do is to not give rise to his courting. But if I'm not subtle enough, Father will know why. He is not stupid, and we should keep that in mind. Besides…"

Richard looked back at her, his beautiful features bruised by the cowardice of the Lancastrian boy.

"Besides?" He repeated.

"There is nothing else prospected for me regarding this issue… It is not as if I got five marriage proposals expecting my father's approval." She said lowering her voice even more, and staring at her hands crossed on her skirt. 

The silence between them was as thick as the Thames mist.

"Do you love me, Anne?"

"What?" She was caught totally under guard.

"Do you love me? And the King?" He rephrased it slightly hurt.

"The King? Why…?" Anne was utterly lost.

"I can ask my brother to suggest the King another match for you, if you trust him. But if your father is to find out, I do not know what might happen." He said with an even tone.

"Another match? Who?" She whispered staring at his eyes.

Anne could tell Richard was caught between the love she knew he felt and his honor. Something he valued above all things. It was not honorable to go behind Lord Warwick and steal a crown from him. But honor also told him that he could not allow that monster that was Edward of Lancaster into Anne's bed. No, that was something beyond consideration.

Richard turned to her, grabbing her hands softly and staring deeply into her eyes.

"Me, Anne. And I will be a true husband, because I love you. Will you marry me, Anne?"


	8. A final word

Anne stared at his eyes. His eyes, always loyal, always honest, always caring. Her throat was refusing to play any sound, and she could see in his face a slight wince at her silence. Anne licked her lips, bracing herself for the answer she had been waiting to give since they had laid eyes on each other for the first time…

"Richard, are you there?"

The muffled harsh voice came through his door accompanied by a few resolved knocks. They both jumped, looking first at the entrance and then at each other. Anne stood up, frantically looking for a way out. There was none, and they both knew. Richard's face was pale but covered in determination. He grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers together, and looked at her one last time, as if asking for her permission.

Anne let a long sigh out, and finally nodded. This was going to change their whole world, and the step was bigger than they could afford. They were decided to play their hand, and wager everything.

"Come in, my lord." Richard said in a strong, decided voice.

"Boy, I hope you are fine. I heard what…"

There he was. Lord Warwick stopped on his tracks, in the doorstep, his hand still on the handle, his knuckles turning white with the strength he was holding it. He slowly stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes were usually cold, but now they were pure ice. Strange as it seemed, it was Richard the recipient of his glance, not his daughter. Anne knew why. She wasn't supposed to know anything about the prospected marriage, but Richard was. So he was the one to blame.

His eyes fluttered from Richard's to their hands. A sharp grimace made his lips even thinner, more clenched. Anne was about to let go of his hand, but when Richard felt it, he grabbed it even tighter, trying to instill his strength into her. She was shivering.

"Anne, can you leave us?" Warwick wasn't truly asking. She recognized the order in his voice, but for the first time in her life she hesitated. His father's eyes went wider with this first sign of disobedience, and then narrowed in threat. "Anne, do not dare to challenge my authority any further. Get. Out."

Richard slowly released her hand, but as she was about to be free, he took her fingers and laid a feather-like kiss on them. The look on his face was reassuring, and Anne would've smiled hadn't she been so scared. It took all her will to make her eyes leave his, but when she finally did, all her determination left her and her steps became faster as she left the room.

Anne ran all the way to her room and slammed the door behind her. She was about to pull her hair off. Going to comfort Richard was a mistake, one they were going to pay dearly. But either way, it was something she had to do. She was unable not to worry, and not to care about him. Richard had confessed his love and wanted to be her husband, and yet… She hadn't had the chance to tell him that her feelings were the same. Or even deeper. And now he was trapped with her father.

"Go away, I don't want see anyone." She grunted after a few knocks at her door. But as if she was not heard, or explicitly ignored, the door opened slowly while she turned to see who had the guts to disobey the daughter of the Earl of Warwick.

There he was, his face swollen, a few ugly cuts all over it, an arm bandaged and a sad look on his face. Prince Edward looked like a horse about to be sacrificed, and Anne bowed slowly, wondering what he was doing there.

"Lady Anne… I came to apologize in behalf of the Duke of Glouscester." His voice was cracked, as if he was in deep pain, but it didn't startle Anne any less.

"In behalf of the Duke? How so?" She asked frowning.

"What he did in front of you, and your lady sister, is unforgivable. He beat the Prince of Wales while he was laying on the mud, helpless…"

"You can't be serious!" She snapped, not being able to restrain herself anymore. "I saw what you did. How you kicked him while his back was turned on you. That, your grace, is probably the ugliest, dirtiest thing I have ever seen in my life. And the Duke of Gloucester did what he had to: defend himself from a coward that hit him while his guard was down."

Anne knew she had gone too far by the way his face had started to change. The sad mock had turned into a sharp, wicked grin appeared in his face. A low, disturbing laugh came from between his teeth, and Anne braced herself, stepping backwards, afraid of that person she had never known.

"A coward… You have insulted the Prince of Wales. But not only the future king of England. Also your future husband, whom you will surrender yourself soon enough." He slowly started to walk towards her, and the light in her room started to darkened, as if clouds were covering the sun with each step he took. "Gloucester wants to keep you to himself. That I know. But he will not. Your father will not lose a crown over a stupid duchy. And I, will not lose the chance to make your life as miserable as I please. For debt has to be paid, and you have an enormous one here. You will be mine, and you will regret this every single day of your life."

He was so close now, while Anne was cornered against the wall, that his hand slowly approached her face and caressed her cheek, her lips and then went down to grab her breast. Anne gasped, and was about to spit him in the face when a voice came from the door.

"Your Grace… You should rest from your injuries. We can not risk your health from this sad incident." Lord Warwick's tone was the perfect courtesan's. 

He bowed when Edward turned to him, and smiled at him while he was leaving the room. Then his eyes became stony again. Anne could feel his gaze examining her, as if he could guess if she had found out about her prospected marriage. Anne took her own eyes away. If there was something she could not stand, was staring at her father with a lie in her heart.

"Anne, let's talk. I have been keeping you in the dark, and now I see that was a mistake." Her daughter's stare snapped at him. Admitting an error wasn't something he'd do frequently, but with her, it was different. Anne had been always his favorite girl. His little girl. And he wanted the best for her. And in those circumstances, the best he could provide for her was a crown.

"Father…" Her voice was trembling, and even too soft to be heard. He walked towards her and stopped in front of her. He lifted her chin with a tender finger, and made her look him in the eyes.

"Anne, you know who you are. Who you are to me. I have always known. Isabel may be the pretty one, the breath taker. I have one purpose for her, but it's not as ambitious as the one I have for you. You are the one who is more alike me. You are clever, smart, cunning. You have an insight that sometimes amazes me. And for all these reasons, and for many more, I have arranged a future for you that will carve your name in gold in our history. The first Neville queen. You are to marry the Prince of Wales."

The name fell upon her like a gravestone. Her soul dropped to her feet, and she had to claw her own palms in order to keep calm. At least, on the outside. She knew there was a chance to avoid this marriage, a very remote one, but it depended on her not deliberately disobeying her father. Now she just couldn't. The lump she felt in her throat made the tears jump to her eyes, slowly building behind her pale eyelids. 

Warwick lowered his hand and frowned slightly.

"Anne, I know what you're thinking. I'm not stupid, nor blind. Gloucester has been my ward more years than he hasn't. And since the first time you laid eyes on each other, I was able to see your feelings. You're translucent, my daughter. That honesty will have to be buried in the next months if you want to survive at court and help our best interests. But that is another matter. I know you love him. And he will probably love you. But love has nothing to do with this. If we all were to marry for love, this whole country would go to hell. You will love your children, if not your husband. But this is my final word. Edward will start courting you from this day on, and when we get the final consent from the king, you will marry in London."

For a moment, Warwick seemed almost concerned for her daughter's feelings. She was so loving, so caring, so honest… She would have to change in order to rule this kingdom. But a few weeks in court would do it. And he would be by her side to keep everything well tied up. 

He kissed her forehead, and left the room, but when he closed the door, he heard it. The most anxious, shattered, heart broken scream he had ever heard.

 

Lord Warwick walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is probably the worst case scenario, but it's what it takes to add the precise amount of angst.
> 
> I don't know how many of you are still reading, but comments are always welcome, especially to improve!!!
> 
> Thanks!!!


	9. Chapter 9

Anne knew for the first time in her life what it meant to be broken. To be torn to pieces. Lying on her knees, her hands scratching the stone floor until her nails became splintered and bloody. That pain made her focus, took her mind from something she could not grasp to something more real, something she could control. She had heard of women who became demented because of their marriages to men who mistreated them in ways beyond imagination. There was a small thread of sanity holding her right now.

She was, indeed, Warwick's daughter. She had been trained all her life for this moment. Biting her lips so hard that she tasted blood, Anne controlled her tears, stopped clawing the floor and slowly stood up. Her hands were beyond repair, but either way she cleaned them and took off the bits of nail that were hanging. She would have to explain this, but for now, she needed to recompose herself.

Anne sat on the bed, calculating every move to keep it in control. She held her hands together, wincing at the feeling, and relaxed them. She knew there was no turning back now. Being informed of the marriage changed everything. If she were to disobey her father, the consequences would be far worse than having not known. But now it would be something intentional. And his rage would make the walls of Warwick Castle fall apart.

Besides, she knew Richard better than that. This was a lost battle, and going into the battlefield would only bring despair and sorrow to everyone. No. She had to grow stronger than that, to overcome it. To be a proud daughter to her father. But Anne's determination shattered when she remembered the Prince words. 

_You will regret this every single day of your life…_

If she told her father what Edward just said to her, it was her word against the future king's. That was not going to happen. And if she told Richard… Well, she couldn't even begin to brace herself for what would happen. Richard was all honor and loyalty. It was terrible just as it was. Telling him would only destroy both of them. 

She was all alone.

 

The sun was setting among the hills on the west when she left her chambers. Anne kept her hands hidden in the pleats of her skirt while she paced to the common dining room. When she arrived, only her parents and the prince were missing. The rest of the nobles of the castle were already sitting by the table, chatting, whispering and exchanging knowing gazes. Isabel stood up when she saw her, and came close to her grabbing her arm.

"Come, Anne, sit by my side. Today we have goose pie, you love it!" She chanted smiling, trying to instill some good mood in her sister. 

They both sat together in front of George and Richard. The older brother was smirking, as if laughing inside of some private joke only he'd find ludicrous. But Richard was more serious than ever. His features were always slightly frowning, darkened. He wasn't a joyous young man, but now it was as if he had been tortured until any drop of happiness left his body. His eyes stared blankly at the windows behind Anne, and his deep blue eyes were almost black now.

Lord and Lady Warwick came scorting Edward of Lancaster. They all stood up when the arrived, and sat back silently with the earls and the prince. He was smiling widely, and when the food came by, he ate profusely, as he had no worries in his dark mind. Anne couldn't bring herself together to eat a piece of pie. The smell was delicious, and her stomach was complaining, but showing her hands was going to break the peace of the meal.

"Lady Anne, would you like me to serve you a piece?"

His voice was soft, only for her ears in the middle of the chatter. Her eyes stared at his, and Anne saw his jaw clenched at the feeling. She slowly nodded and Richard cut a piece of the pie and placed it carefully on her plate. But his eyes were still on it when Anne rose her hands from her lap to pick a piece of it. 

Seeing her fingers so damaged overwhelmed him, far beyond what she would have ever conceived. His face first got paler, and then it started to redden. His teeth clenched together and for a second, Anne thought of coming up to him and comfort him. But the noise of his chair roughly sliding back when he stood up and left the room took her out of her dream state.

It wasn't long before they heart Richard's stallion, a white war horse he called Galahad, neighed while he was galloping away from the castle. Anne clenched her teeth together and hid her hands for the rest of the meal. She felt Isabel's wary side glances, but she had no strength in her to look her back. She knew if she had, tears would fill her eyes within the minute. 

When dinner was over, Anne retired quickly to her bedchambers. Absorbed by her thoughts, the handmaidens undressed her and combed her hair before leaving her for sleep. She was almost unaware of all the process, until she found herself laying on the bed. She didn't like where her mind was wondering, because thinking about Richard would only make her more miserable. And misery was already something clawed deep in her soul. No need to make it dig in deeper.

 

Days went by and Richard's behavior became erratic, even more surly. Looking at him was like looking at a lion in a cage too small for his ferocity. He'd still attend to his duties as a ward, but he stopped having his meals with the rest of the castle, and anyone could find his horse at the stables sweating, almost exhausted from his raids. For Anne, knowing he was in as much pain as she was only made everything more unbearable. 

Isabel never brought that night under the oak up. The feelings her sister harbored for the young dark-haired ward of his father were too deep and obvious for her to instill any nostalgia that could turn everything for the worse. She simply stood by her side through every waking hour, and some nights she would share her bed, only to stop her from crying all the dark hours.

Desperation started to sink in her heart as well. She loved her younger sister, dearly. She had always been her confidant, her best friend, her partner in crime. Anne was brave and would put up with everything their father would throw in her way. But Isabel couldn't help to feel this was going to drain her sister's soul. 

Even though her behavior was impeccable in front of everyone else, Isabel only needed to look in her eyes to know she was suffering deep inside. And this suffering was only going to get worse as the wedding day came closer. That morning, when their handmaids entered their bedroom carrying coffers and grabbed Anne to begin the seaming of her bride dress, Isabel's soul dropped to her feet. Anne stood up quietly, her eyes staring blankly away, obedient to anything the seamstresses would ask from her. But Isabel couldn't bear it anymore. Anne was a fighter and yet, it seemed she had already given up.

The corridors appeared longer than ever while Isabel searched for George. Their marriage was already settled down and it would probably happen a few weeks before Anne's in Middleham. They were no princes, and even though his brother Edward was closer to the crown than anyone else, protocol stated that there was no need for them to marry in the capital. Her happiness was beyond her grasp. Her heart was ecstatic, but she kept it to herself. Exuding happiness in front of her sister would have been like pouring salt in her wounds.

When she found George, sitting under a willow while sharpening his dagger, Isabel sighed in relief. George's eyes met hers, and he smiled right away. While he had been quite an annoyance all his life, now that their betrothal was stated, he had become nicer to Isabel. Of course, he was still arrogant and smart aleck, but when they were alone, his personality was more accessible and caring.

He stood up and bowed at the same time she did, and afterwards, they couldn't help but giggling. They looked around, and seeing themselves alone, George kissed her tenderly, caressing her cheek. It was only a brief kiss, but it brought goosebumps all over her skin. They sat together under the tree, while he kept taking care of his blade.

"George, there is something I need to talk to you…" She started, frowning worrisome.

"Tell me, fair Isabel." He answered quietly, stopping his activity to look at her. Her concern had soaked through her voice.

"It's my sister. You know she is to marry…"

"I know. But there is nothing we can do. Richard received word from our brother Edward. He's been instructed to let things be, and denied his petition to talk to the king and favor their union over the one with the prince."

Isabel's heart skipped a beat.

"No…"

"Anne is not  the only one suffering. I have never seen Richard this sullen. And he is sullen already. Too much, if you ask me. But these days he's become a stranger. I worry… Maybe the best would be for him to leave already. Turn his eyes away from whatever pains him."

Isabel stared at the grass and caressed it with the tips of her fingers.

"It may be for the best, but Anne… You know how that boy is. He's… Sometimes I feel like he's not even human. The way he looks at her, it's like she's no more than a dog he can treat as he pleases. I fear for her, George."

"She's going to be Queen of England. That's not small affair. Even though her husband is… Well, you know how he is. But still."

"Do you want this kind of man as a King?" Isabel suddenly threw her thoughts at him. George stared at his betrothed and his eyes flickered. "Do you think this man will make a fine King? A fair one? Is your brother aware of…"

But she couldn't finish her sentence. George's cheeks gave him away. The way he was blushing and turning his green eyes away from her was more than suspicious. 

"Isabel, you should stay out of this. It's far more important than your sister's happiness, but it also comprises it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I'm doing!!
> 
> Hope you like it ^_____^


	10. Chapter 10

They slept together that night, although sleeping was the last thing they did. The nightly hours went by as they used to when they were children and shared a bed. They crept under the linen sheets while the candles flickered around the room. Anne was laughing, teasing Isabel and tickling her older sister, as if her fate was something no more than a nightmare. A ghoulish dream that'd fade away when someone came around her. Isabel was lighthearted. She didn't find the strength to keep serious, worried about her sister. For the first time in a weeks, they were a resemblance of what they used to be. And she was holding it dearly, creating a memory of something that would not happen again, probably ever again.

"Has he kissed you?" Anne whispered smiling curiously while Isabel blushed and pinched her arm.

"Anne!"

"Come on, I know you meet when no one's around…" Her sister was about to explode and she couldn't help but laughing with all her heart.

"Fair enough, you little elf! Fine, we… We have kissed… A few times…"

Anne feigned surprise and opened her mouth mocking surprise, and they both laughed together. 

"We should get some sleep. Otherwise, tomorrow your eyes will be puffy and red and you will blame me." Anne pointed yawning.

"I have to ask you something, Anne, but I don't want you to feel sad…" Isabel said after a silence.

"I promise nothing will make me sad." She smiled encouragingly.

"When you kissed Richard…" Anne winced slightly at his name, but her smile didn't falter. "Did you feel it? The tickling in the stomach?"

"I did. You do too?"

Isabel nodded. "Do you think that is what love feels like?"

Anne shrugged and stared at the ceiling, emerging out of the linens. "I don't know, if you want me to be honest. But I truly believe that is what love should feel like. Like a thousand ants coursing your belly and making you want to laugh until you cry." Her eyes shone wetting, and Isabel hugged her tightly.

"Anne… I can't tell you anything that I don't know. But there's something… I'm not sure, but trust me. The York brothers are up to something. George hasn't told me anything, but I know him. He won't say a word, but there is something going on… Hold on, Anne, hold on. My instinct tells me that there's something about to happen. And you will be in the middle of it, so brace yourself." Isabel foretold, making her sister shiver. 

She hugged her back, and when the sun finally gave birth to the morning, they were sound asleep. At least until the handmaids came in like a flock and woke them up. Anne was dragged outside her sister's bedroom to get ready herself, and before leaving, she kissed Isabel dearly and gave her a reassuring look.

"I am sure there hasn't been and won't be any bride more beautiful and fortunate than you are going to be, Izzy."

Anne's dress was a forest green one, that highlighted her pale features and her blonde hair. It was tight on the waist and chest, and opened in a beautiful brocade skirt with gold and jet. The handmaids plaited her hair but instead of letting it down, they pinned it up so her neck was exposed and decorated with a magnificent silver and mother of pearl necklace. When Anne saw her own reflection on the mirror, she gasped. It was the first time she dressed up like this since she was a child, and she looked now more of a woman than a kid.

Anne walked into the great hall as part of the marital party that would escort the groom and the bride into the church. The king's official announcement of her betrothal to the Prince of Wales hadn't arrived yet, and because of that, he wasn't part of the party as her future husband. Nevertheless, she was supposed to be accompanied by the groom's younger brother, being herself the bride's younger sister.

When she arrived, Richard was already waiting for her, as well as George. The groom was astonishing. His fair hair was shining like threads of gold, imitating the ones that laced his doublet. The richness of his attire was dazzling, and Anne couldn't help but being glad for her sister. He was all she wanted and deserved. A golden young man. But at his right side, as if they were night and day, his younger brother, the Duke of Gloucester, looked like the dark side of the moon. He was wearing a black doublet, and although it was made of rich fabric and jet brocade, it made his features sober and a little dark themselves. 

His eyes fluttered when they met Anne, and he wasn't aware of curtseying until he saw his brother bowing. Immediately, he replicated the movement and when he stood up again, he couldn't help but blushing. Richard had never seen her more beautiful, more brilliant, more blinding. A knot tied up his throat, rendering him unable to speak.

"My lord of Clarence, my lord of Gloucester." Anne curtseyed smiling politely, her eyes never meeting Richard's.

Before anyone else had the chance to speak, the earl of Warwick and his wife made their entrance. All the servants bowed, and the three youngsters did as well. Richard Neville patted on George's shoulder and nodded seriously, without looking twice at Richard or Anne. The stood by each other's side awkwardly, waiting for her sister to appear. And she did.

Isabel was wearing a pale blue dress with a train that fell long behind her. It was made of the purest silk, that sparkled in the light of the morning, sprinkled with thousands of pearls and moonstones. The neckline was embroidered with white lace that laid against her even paler skin. Around her neck, her father had given her a radiant necklace made of gold and sapphires that captured every eye in the room. Her jet black hair was gathered in a sophisticated updo, and decorated with a silver hairnet with small rose pearls. Isabel was a splendid sight, and she knew. Her smile didn't leave her lips all the way through his future husband, who had lost the ability to speak, even to breath. 

Anne smiled at the sight of a petrified George, he, who always had a smart thing to say. Even though her heart was mourning, she couldn't help being happy for them, and feeling, for the first time in weeks, a bit lighthearted, as she used to. The procession was ready to enter the temple and the Earl of Warwick, taking his wife by the hand, initiated it. 

Behind them, the groom and the bride walked together, stealing side glances from each other. Anne caught a glimpse of George's thumb, caressing slightly her sister's hand, and she chuckled. Maybe her life wasn't perfect, nor would ever be. But Isabel had happiness ahead and she wasn't going to let her own sorrow ruin that joyful occasion.

By the time it was their turn, Richard reached out his hand for Anne to lay hers above it. He wasn't even looking at her, she knew it was the protocol what had pulled his hand up. But still, when she laid hers on top of his, she felt his warmth, and a slight shiver underneath it. Suddenly, his fingers tightened the grip, and her heart skipped a beat. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she didn't allow them to show. She clenched her teeth together and took all the pleasure she could from this permitted touch, not knowing when it would happen again, if it would at all.

By the time they reached the altar, and as it was accustomed, women and men separated and occupied different sides of the benches. Before splitting, and for the first time, Richard's deep blue eyes stole a glance from Anne's, and their fingers lingered together a second longer than they had to. She felt his pain. Even though he was hiding it in a deep, dark part of his soul, his face was always an opened book for her to read. At least, it had become so since she realized she loved him, and he loved her back. 

The ceremony was long, and in latin, so Anne was more than able to let her mind fly away, picture herself in Isabel's position, with Richard by her side, holding her hand, putting the ring in her finger. Her heart fluttered, until she felt a stare at her side. She slightly turned her face to see who it was, and her mind landed back on earth right there. The Prince of Wales had his eyes fixed on her, the same way a man fixes his eyes on his opponent in the battlefield. She turned away and shivered, a part of her heart scared of what was to come. 

The banquet was taking place in the great hall, since it was the biggest space in the castle. Large tables had been placed to host every guest and the center one was destined to the bride and the groom, as well as their brother and sister, and the earls of the castle. The Prince of Wales had been accommodated with other noble men that had come from London to represent the King and his court. Not for nothing, since the Nevilles, the Yorks and the Lancaster were all cousins. 

During the banquet, seventeen different plates were served. From stag to loin of veal, pomegranate and sugar-plums sauces, stuffed capon, trouts, pigeons and fruit jellies. Everyone's appetite seemed to awake a the sight of the feast, but Anne only pecked a few bites. Her father, sitting at her right, side glanced at her a few times, but he had other matters to attend instead of her younger daughter's lack of appetite. 

Toasts were made, chants were sung and laughter soaked through everyone's spirits. Well, almost everyone. But the Prince were especially happy about the occasion. Although his happiness translated into inebriation drink after drink. By the time the servants pulled the tables from the hall to leave space for the party to dance, he was almost unable to stand up. Anne tried to ignore him, but every time she met eyes with Richard, he was always staring, jaw clenched, at the young Lancaster. 

When the musicians got ready in a corner and started to play, the bride and the groom opened the dance together, shortly before the Earl of Warwick took his wife into it, and gradually a few more couples. Anne's spine froze when she saw the Prince stumbling up to her, and bowing in a ridiculous way. He grabbed her hand so tight that his fingernails clawed in it, making her wince at the pain.

"My lady, my bride to be. Come."

It wasn't a petition, it was an order. Edward pulled her hand and waddled into the middle of the hall. People left space for them into the formation of the dance, and while Anne was curtseying him before starting, he started to laugh uncontrollably. Her cheeks were so flushed in shame she could feel every inch of the skin of her face. He was still clawing his hand in hers, and his movements were vague, imprecise, and he was constantly tripping over his own feet. 

To the point that when he felt the floor disappearing underneath him, he grabbed Anne's sleeve to stop himself from falling, but to no avail. Nevertheless, the fabric tore and he fell on the floor. 

The music stopped.

In the silence, the prince's guffaws turned to sobs and he covered his face with his hands. Richard Neville nodded at two of his closest men and they helped the Prince stand up and carried him into his bedchambers. The music slowly came back, but Anne was so embarrassed for what just happened, and because of her broken sleeve, that she didn't know what to do. Tears were threatening to fill her eyes, and as she was about to leave the center of the hall to seek the comfort of her own bedchambers, a resolute hand grabbed hers with a very different touch from the one before it.

Richard was standing by her side, and he quickly helped her into the movements of the dance, a slow one that had started a second before. Anne swallowed her tears and she couldn't help but smile, even though Richard's stare was serious, as always. The caress between their hands was so light that it was almost inexistent, but the warmth of his hand instilled into hers, reassuring her heart and soothing her embarrassment. 

When the dance brought them to face each other, their eyes met for the first time in hours. The world disappeared around them, only the sound of the music, the movement of their feet closing the distance between them and increasing it gradually. Only the feeling of his palm, rough, against hers, delicate. His eyes roamed the shape of her neck, the skin of her neckline, the form of her lips, making Anne flustered with what she felt in his stare. 

The piece ended, and the applauses around them brought them back into reality. 

"Thank you…" Anne muttered under her breath, and Richard answered with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before turning away.

Anne went to sit by her mother. She reached out her hand to grab his daughter's, and she gave her a reassurance squeeze. But lady Warwick's eyes fluttered when she met his husband's, who was facing her while reading a parchment. Richard Neville nodded slightly, and Anne Beauchamp smiled brightly.

Her daughter stared at her, puzzled, but the minute she stared into her eyes, she knew what was about to come. Anne tried to brace herself, as she had been trying for the last weeks since the unofficial news reached her knowledge. Her eyelids dropped and a long sigh escaped, unnoticed for anyone but her, through her thin lips.

"Your lord father has received word from the King. You are to marry Prince Edward three weeks from today."


	11. Chapter 11

The trip was long, tedious, and the time to get ready for it had been below short. The arrangements for Anne's bridal dress were done in a hurry and the seamstress were forced to work on the road to London. Whenever they'd stop to rest in an inn, or in one of Warwick's subjects castles, the dressmakers swirled around her and tried the dress on her to see the progress. 

It was torture for Anne.

The Prince of Wales hadn't courted her at all. His mask had dropped the minute she called him a coward, and since then he didn't even bother to treat her nicely. Warwick looked the other way whenever his future son in law would treat Anne with discourtesy, or were directly impolite at her. Richard couldn't take it, and he would spare the meals with the rest of the group to walk around the surroundings by himself. Sometimes George would come along, leaving Isabel, his brand new wife, to comfort her grieving sister.

But Anne was a Neville. And even though inside she was collapsing, she hid it well. She always had a smile for her betrothed, a bow for her father, a loving caress for her sister and a nice gesture for her mother. But if the days were tolerable, with the travel and the company of the people around, the nights were tougher. She discovered a world of nightmare that plagued her every single hour of every single night. She would grab her pillow and scream into it, her forehead wet with sweat, her nightshift stuck to her skin. And it was always the same. A snake crawling inside of her, while someone covered her mouth and pinned down her arms. And every time, she would wake up screaming, crying and sobbing uncontrollably.

Until one night. The night before they reached London. 

The inn was so small that they had to split into several ones. The earl of Warwick, his wife, and the Prince of Wales stayed in the best one, at Edward's request. He wanted two of the rooms for his own, even though there was space enough for another three people. Richard Neville tried to talk him into some sense, but the closer they got to London, the more of a tyrant he proved himself to be. In court, his authority would overrule anyone else's but his father, and Edward proved himself to be quite fond of his growing power.

So George, Isabel, Anne and Richard were forced to go find another inn in the surroundings. A few miles away from the first one, they found a smaller one. There were only two bedrooms, and Richard stated from the first moment that the girls should take them, and George and he would look for a place at the barn. His brother refused emphatically, arguing that he was being forced to drag his new wife and himself half of the country while they should be celebrating their first days as newly weds. Isabel meddled quietly, assuring that she had no problem sharing a bed with Anne, while the boys could manage themselves in the other room. 

Both sisters got into one of the bedrooms. It wasn't lavishly decorated, and the furniture was seemed to have known better times, but it was enough for one night. One last night, before London hovered above them. Anne was quietly unlacing her dress and slipping into her nightshift while Isabel did the same. They jumped together into the sheets, and stared at the ceiling. But Isabel was restless. She kept moving and sighing, until Anne sat up and nuzzled her arm softly with her hand.

"Isabel…"

"I'm sorry, Anne, it's just…" She trailed off, pouting.

"I know. Go, before I regret it."

Isabel's face shone in happiness and hugged her sister so hard she squealed laughing. Isabel threw a robe on her shoulders and left the bedroom silently. Anne left one candle lit, and tried not to stare at the shadows creeping around the bed. She closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to sleep.

But there it was. The snake. Crawling between her sheets. A hand pressing her mouth closed, hands pinning her arms down. And the snake kept crawling towards her…

"Anne, Anne! Wake up!"

The hands that were shaking her carefully touched her in a very different way. These were caring, soft, but sound. They were trying to break the nightmare and pull her back into reality. When she opened her eyes, she jumped away unintentionally. In front of her, with one knee on the bed and his hands on her arms, was Richard. His eyes, full of concern, accused her retreat, and he increased the distance as well, standing by the bed.

"What… Richard, what are you doing here?"

"I must apologize, for I have no right to be here. And I was not. I was sitting outside by your door, but when I heard you screaming, I was worried that you might be in danger. Seeing that you are well, I will leave you to sleep. Again, I am sorry."

His voice was so cold, so polite that Anne's eyes filled with tears. He was turning around when she couldn't help to jump from the bed and grab his arm. He looked at her surprised, his cold mask cracking at her warm touch.

"Richard, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything… I just got startled. It's me who has to apologize, you brought me out of my nightmare and that is more than I can do by myself."

He faced her slowly and brushed her damp hair away from her face. Anne couldn't avoid closing her eyes in pleasure, and her face turned to his hand without noticing. He complied, and caressed her cheek.

"Anne, I can't…" Richard said, but his hand was still against her face. "If anyone finds out…"

"Nobody will. Please… don't leave me. Tomorrow London will devour us, but tonight, I'm still Anne, and you're still Richard." Tears started to wet her eyes, and Richard stopped restraining himself and held her as close as he could.

"You will always be Anne to me. And I will always be Richard, for you. London won't change that. The court won't change that. Not even your marriage." He added whispering in her ear. He slowly sat by her side, caressing her hair, while Anne laid her head against her chest. "Do you remember when your uncle John would tell us about Camelot?" Anne nodded silently. "It caused a deep impression in my soul, and even though our world is far away from being a Utopian realm, I will always be your knight. Your paladin. I will always stand up for you, and defend you, and save you from any danger that pesters around you. I will seek no wife, nor family, to stay by your side. I will be your sworn knight, if you let me."

Anne pulled slowly from his chest and looked into his eyes. His sincere eyes, full of honesty. What he was promising was a life of celibacy and servitude. Servitude consecrated to her. Her hand caressed his features. His dense eyebrows, his straight nose, his high cheekbones, his soft cheeks, his decided chin, his soft lips. When her fingers reached his mouth, Richard kissed her finger pads. His eyes were fixed in hers, as if he wanted to merge inside of her, become one person and end their suffering.

"Loyalte me lieu." He mumbled under his breath, and it took all he had to pull away from Anne. "I can't, Anne. I cannot give you my honor, or steal yours away. Nobody would find out. Nobody but us, and that is enough. We would be plagued by the memory, rendering our lives unlivable. Please, don't ask me to betray my honor. If I don't have you, it's all I have left."

Richard slowly stood up, using all the strength, all the will he had left to stay away from Anne. He grabbed her hand delicately, and brushed his lips against it. It was a caress so light that Anne thought she had imagined it. His stare never left her eyes while he gradually moved away from the bed and left the room. The noises from him getting accommodated by her door reached her ears, and she let herself fall against the wool mattress. She had no more tears to drop, no more tolerance to the pain her soul was aching. 

And yet, a small flame had lit inside her heart. She might not have Richard as a husband. But he would always be her protector. And that was a feeling that washed all over her with a relief she hadn't felt in weeks. A relief that allowed her to sleep well, for the first time in so long she couldn't remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I needed it to end before they reached London.
> 
> Let me know!!


End file.
